Ye Che visited Xia Weiyi's residence for the first time. It was a one-bedroom, one-living room, one-bathroom apartment. The room was very small, not even the size of a study in Xinhong Garden, but Xia Weiyi had kept it very neat and cozy.
On her bed, there was a plush toy, and in her wardrobe, there were only three or four summer outfits for changing and a pair of shoes. Aside from that, there was nothing else.
Ye Che returned to the living room and noticed an old ceramic pot on the table. He opened the lid and sniffled, a strong scent of herbal medicine wafted out. Ye Che frowned, thinking of how Xia Weiyi had only been discharged from the hospital less than a month ago, she must still be taking herbal medicine to recuperate, right?
Thinking of his child, who had been lost in such an unclear manner, and the culprit who had drugged them had still not been caught, Ye Che felt a dull pain in his heart.
